


Gentlemen Prefer Borg

by Sangerin



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Sarcasm, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/876355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangerin/pseuds/Sangerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time I came close, there would be a blonde, waltzing into the ready room or otherwise into our lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentlemen Prefer Borg

Somewhere along the line, it got to the point where I dreaded the sight of a blonde woman walking into the room. No – not so much dreaded, as…I’m not sure, but dreaded still isn’t the right word. Because I’m over him.

Saying I’m over him, of course, indicates that at one stage, I was very much…I have no vocabulary tonight…attracted to him, "into him"? There was always a spark. Something undefinable. Hidden, and yet very much out in the open. I’d be surprised if Paris didn’t have a betting pool going on the two of us.

There were times when the thought was…attractive. Compelling. Overwhelming, even. But every time I came close, there would be a blonde, waltzing into the ready room or otherwise into our lives. The first one was Riley Frazier, and she appeared less than a month after what I’d thought was, to be cliched, "the beginning of a beautiful friendship". We had been getting along so well – socially as well as professionally – and then she turned up. Or rather, he got shot up on her doorstep, and one of our best young Ensigns was killed.

Now, Dr Frazier was quite intelligent. I honestly think we could have been good friends. A scientist, someone I could talk to – a Borg, someone with whom I could sympathise. An ex-Borg – someone I could admire for her tenacity. There was the minor matter of her manipulating him to get what she wanted. Of course, I admire her for that, too. Who wouldn’t?

But when it comes to manipulation, there’s one woman way above the rest of us. You know, a paper-based journal is a wonderful thing. Another of my parent’s "traditionalist" fixations – but one that I’ve kept up. Not well, not consistently…I’ll go months without writing a word or reading old entries. But eventually, I’ll go back to it. And when I go back to it, I read what I wrote last. It’s…interesting, shall we say…to discover that someone you’re close to has gone through the same relationship, twice, and you can’t remember it. But I know it happened, because it’s written down, in my handwriting, in my turn of phrase. With my gaps and guesses at words and lapses in vocabulary. It only ever happens when I’m writing on paper. Strange. In any case, her name was Kellin. And she was blonde. She just sounds blonde. I know blonde – I can tell.

The next one was Marla Gilmore. She’s still here – and if he still wanted her, she’d be welcome to him. But something tells me he wouldn’t date someone who’s been disgraced and stripped of her rank. Though he’d love to strip her of everything else. Meow – the claws are out tonight! Poor Marla…she has the disadvantage of still being around him. Everyone else has been able to escape.

Then there was Valerie Archer – commonly known, I believe, as "the 8472 chick". Oh, I keep my ears to the lower decks, I know what’s going on, what’s being said. There’s been some choice gossip going around over the years, some of it quite hilarious. Then again, some of it has been about me, and that I’m not so keen on. But where was I – Valerie. The only brunette in the bunch, a non-humanoid lifeform, practicing to take over the Alpha Quadrant. If they target the men, 8472 won’t have any trouble…he certainly didn’t waste any time in considering what he was doing.

But the latest one’s the killer. Seven. He’s back to his old stomping-ground…blonde headed ex-Borgs. Blonde, busty - though I will admit that he’s never really gone for busty before – or not on her scale. Her scale, however, is off the scale…yes, claws, I know. Ridiculous, isn’t it. The girl is my protegee. I’m not sure if I’m more upset that he’s with her, or that she’s with him. A Starfleet captain ought to be able to express themselves with more accuracy and fluidity than that! To put it a better way, in my weaker moments, I’m not sure whether it’s her I’m jealous of, or him. Neither am I sure of whether I’m the protective mother hen or the jealous, bitchy ex.

But as I said, that reaction only applies in my weaker moments. Right now I’m fine with it – her, him, the whole deal. As for him, it seems his preferences are rather transparent. Blonde, with a definite preference for de-assimilated Borg. I’m not blonde, but as for the other…well, I’m counting myself lucky that I’m not a notch on his bedpost.


End file.
